VIII A World Turn into Darkness
A lot of the scenery that is mentioned around their campus is a lot like my university. Then again, I'd say most schools have a pretty basic standard of Union with coffee shop, some variation of a garden, and if it's an older school, some kind of church or other historic building on-site.
OnginalMaz said they wanted to see more A) physical business and B) something to be found about Eponine in their research for their Rebellion project.
Several people mentioned this, and all I can say is whoa nelly! Relationship take time, right? We'll get there…maybe.
While she was the first to fall, I doubt many historians would know that. Everyone in those barricades died – except Marcus, of course – so really all I'd imagine would've been reported on would be pre-battle and deaths. I imagined that there simply wouldn't be much info on the ABCs anyways, as they weren't a large group and all of them kicked it. I'm not going to have them "discover" her in any fashion, primarily because I feel the dreams compensate for this matter.
-XXX-
The following Thursday, I check my Gmail to find an interesting note in my inbox. One that, according to the contacts line is from the school.
THE TIME HAS COME TO RISE AGAINST THE FALL IN SCHOLARSHIPS AND FINANCIAL AID AND COME TOGETHER TO SHOW OUR ADMISTRATION AND OUR SENATORS WE ARE WILLING TO FIGHT FOR OUR RIGHT TO EDUCATION. JOIN US AT THE FOUNTAINS BEFORE CLARA THOMAS TOMORROW AT EIGHT P.M. TO MAKE A STAND AND LET YOUR VOICES BE HEARD.
I sat back into my chair. "It's really happening."
Later in the day I see Enjolras - only, it's not in Revolutionary History, it's just outside of the class. He's waiting for me, leaning against the wall. Without so much as a hello he approaches, taking me into his arms.
"Um, hi. Are you…ready for class?"
"No," he says shortly. "Let's get coffee."
"Um. After class?"
"Nope, now." And he begins steering me back towards the stairs.
"Leo, I don't want to skip –"
"I need to talk with you," he says urgently. "Please, just…indulge me. Besides, we're not missing anything important, I swear. Besides, haven't we logged in enough hours working on our project?"
He has a point.
But instead of going to the Union, Leo takes me to the sunken garden. It's this small sunk-in area behind the old chapel that sits in the middle of campus. A small birdbath sits in the center, surrounded by unopened tulips. The perimeter is surrounded by young birches and skinny pines, with the back line defined by the wall of the church. Very secluded, it's favored by couples and people who enjoy doing their homework outdoors. There is a pair of covered benches that sit on each end of the garden, capping off the length. Blooming vines weave in and out of the cherry-colored lattice. It's here that Enjolras takes me.
We're alone. Even so, I sit back shyly, sinking into the shadows of the vine drapery. Enjolras says nothing to this, merely raises his brows.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
I protest. "Of course not."
"I worry this…elevated physical contact makes you uneasy. I don't want to scare you."
"Leo." My voice is firm. "I might be a little…nervous, about this. But you're not scaring me. You never scare me." "Though, perhaps intimidate, at times," I mentally acknowledge. "but that is your position, as out leader."
He reaches out. "You must forgive me. I don't usually behave this way. In such a commandeering fashion."
This makes me laugh. "Oh no, that's not like you at all."
Relaxation melts over him. "Okay, perhaps it is."
"It's definitely you."
"I'm not so good with my words."
"That is entirely a lie," I declare. "You're a very gifted orator. You're just not skilled at putting your more…emotional feeling into words. Your logical feelings? Easy as pie. But your feelings-feelings? Not so much."
His lips twist into a half-smile. "Then let me try. You mean a lot to me, Eveline."
Shyly, I smile, biting my lip. "Nice start."
"I'm not done," he warns. "I don't know what exactly we have, but I know I like it and I know I'm probably messing everything up, so you need to tell me when that happens because I….I want this. I want this to work. And now isn't exactly the best time, with the protests and our efforts coming to fruition. After everything is over, though, I hope we'll…decide where to go."
"I'd like that."
Again, he visibly relaxes. But there is something still giving him an edge. I tilt my head and wait.
"Tomorrow," he sighs. "It's here. Our efforts, coming to culmination."
"Yes."
He looks at me, a curious kind of tint to his gaze. "Eveline, I don't want you at the fountains tomorrow."
I'm flabbergasted. "What?"
"I know you want to be there. But I'm not going to let you risk you education."
"Leo, I've got to go. It's what we've worked for. I've been with you almost every step of the way." There is a panic rising in me. I feel heat rising to my face.
He shakes his head. It's clear that this is painful to him as well, but nevertheless he surges on. "I couldn't forgive myself if you were expelled. Evie, I know, you've put so much into tonight. But please, stay away. Trust me. It can carry on without you."
A flicker of realization strikes me. My voice turns deathly quiet. "I'm not Coleen."
Recoiling, Enjolras frowns. "I wasn't saying you were."
"But you're treating me like Marcus treats her," I cry. "I am no delicate songbird. I can do this. With such a crowd as we'll have, it shall be impossible for them to single anyone of us out. There is little danger in my standing out there with you. Enjolras, I don't want to be a coward!"
"You are no coward," he sooths. "Everyone knows you are strong, Eveline. No one will think less of you for it, especially if they know it was I who asks it of you. " His hands find my hair, beginning to stoke the dark locks. It's a very intimate motion that succeeds – slightly – in relaxing me. "Please, I cannot bear to have you there if there is even a slight chance…you're risking more than the rest of us. You're here on scholarship. The rest of us could manage at another school. But you…." He drifts off.
"No. Don't make me. I want to be with all of you. I don't care. Leo, Leo, I want to be with you. What if you're caught? I can't leave you. If you jump, I jump."
"Is that from Titanic?" He snorts. "If I get in trouble, it's on my own neck. But I won't let you fall with me."
"Leo –"
"Please," he says.
For a moment – just a moment – I think I can agree. I believe that, for his happiness, I can remain back. I can keep away from the fight. And I would do it for him.
But all too soon, the moment passed. "I can't leave them there. I can't leave him there. If we fall, we fall together."
Instead of this, however, I say, "If you will insist, Leo."
"Promise me?"
"Yes."
He sinks in relief. "Thank you. This is hard, I know. Know that I would not ask this of you if I didn't think it was the best option. I want to protect you, Eveline."
"I understand."
He still looks a little wary, however, even after I press a reassuring kiss into this cheek. I bury my head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, enjoying the feel of his chest rising and falling, the way he inhales the scent of my hair, how our fingers intertwine just so.
Lying is not something I particularly relish. Especially not to my friends. Yet, I cannot imagine not being there tomorrow. This is our moment. Everything we've worked for. How could I miss that? The protest is our centerpiece. As Enjolras's pulse reader, I ought to be there. I'm good with feeling the crowds.
We sit together, quietly, for an hour. Then, slowly, we make to part. Enjolras kisses my crown lightly before we go our separate ways. Then he cups face, asking, "Will you meet me tomorrow, before 8? Wish me luck?"
I smile. "Of course."
-XXX-
La Seine is sedated tonight. The black waters ripple gently with the evening wind. She does not rear up however, and there is no rage in her flow. I don't tend to trust rivers.
Enjolras sit, contemplating the dark waters with a heavily furrowed brow. Though, his brow tends to be quite serious normally. I lounge next to him, having propped myself up against the stone wall with my elbows. Sitting had been getting uncomfortable, but I was unwilling to leave my friend on his lonesome; tonight is too haunted for me to do such a thing, no matter how tedious river-watching may be at midnight. And so, I wait.
Finally, he speaks.
"It's tomorrow."
"Yes," I agree, unsure of what else I might add.
He looks at me, eyes painfully bright. Most of this evening was spent in preparation for the funeral tomorrow, among other plans. My friend spend most of his day and a good part of the night pouring over maps, writing correspondence to other champions of our cause, encouraging his fellows to focus. His voice is hoarse. "It's going to be grand. Our rising…."
"Yes," I say again. "Of course it will be.
Eyes turn back to La Seine. I must admit, I am rather jealous of the attention he is showing her tonight.
"Eponine," my friend begins quietly. "I do not want to see you there tomorrow. At the funeral procession or in the barricade."
I start. "Had you expected to?" I ask, innocently.
He lets out a half-laugh. "Yes, I did. Surely you'd go to follow Marius."
"And not you? You did not think of yourself, monsieur?"
Another chuckle, this one a little more bleak. "No. I did not."
Silence falls between us again. Then -
"I expect the people to rise in our cause. But even so – just in caution – I -" he stops, pausing to gather words. "I don't want you to be there. For your safety."
My heart warms. "Whatever you wish, Monsieur Enjolras.."
The picture twists. And, suddenly, I'm not quite…there. I mean, I can still see. But my body isn't corporal – I'm observing from another place. But that's not what is remarkable.
It's a barren little room with broken chairs, scattered books and flags. Grungy. Several men occupy it – a few in bright military coats. Two others, sweaty and dirty and terrible fierce in the face, stand with the backs to an open window. They're rigid in their posture, eyes dark, brows furrowed.
All I can truly see is a determined Enjolras, face tight, solid as marble. It contorts. He falls back. Out into the blue-grey of sky. Falling, back into the window. Legs twisted in scarlet, he hangs, pitifully, upside down, for all the world to see.
-XXX-
I sit up, stock-straight, chest heaving. Reaching up, I feel my cheeks – slick and wet with tears. My entire body quakes. My head goes between my heads, propped up on my knees. I close my eyes. "What a terrible dream." When my shoulders finally stop shaking, I look up.
My bed is situated directly across from our bathroom door, on which is a full-length mirror. I examine myself. Red, watery eyes. Pale face, pale lips and cheeks. Strained expression. Hands that refuse to stop their tremor. Overall, I look terrible. Exhausted, weak, strained. I want to cry all over again.
Instead, I reach for my cell phone. I dial the number quickly, although it takes me several tries, as my nervous fingers continuously fumble.
A groggy response greets me. "Hello?"
As soon as I hear his voice I burst into tears. A much more alert greeting follows. "Eveline? What's wrong?"
"Leo, Leo, it was terrible," I sob into the line, barely distinguishable.
"What's wrong?" he repeats, panicked.
"I had one of t-those dream," I stutter. "One of those dreams."
"What was so terrible about it? They don't normally cause you to behave like this. What happened?" he demands.
"You," I manage, nearly whispering. "Leo, I… you were in it. You were in it and I think you were dead."
He is quiet.
I shift to stare out the window. There is a big, open sort of field just beyond the sidewalk. I can remember the stark whiteness of winter months. The barren expanse it would turn into after a night of snow. I can remember days of crossing that field. Snowball fights. Benches line the edge. I was sitting one of those benches at the beginning of the semester when Marcus and Leo across me.
"What happened?" he finally asks.
I take a breath. "I was there and you were there and we were talking, then the picture moved and you…and you…."
"How?"
"I just told you!"
"No, you didn't, " he says patiently. "That was not a story. That was a jumble of words."
So I explain, taking deep breaths between, what, precisely, happened. He listens. When I reach the end, Enjolras sooths me with gentle words.
"It was just a dream," he promises. "Just a weird…dream."
There is a catch to his voice.
"Are you alright Leo?" I inquire softly.
My friend sighs. "I…had a similar dream earlier."
I gasp. "What?"
"I was dying. You weren't there, though, that time…..They've been happening…lately. Dreams of revolution. Death." He takes a breath. "It's subconscious. All that studying. It's stuck in our minds."
There is a pause. "You died?" I ask.
"Yes."
This is said without any pain, shock, or inflexion. Very-matter-of-fact.
"Oh." Then – "Oh Leo, that's terrible. What's happening to us?" Distress is rising in my voice once more. Enjolras hurries to calm me.
"I don't know. But it's a little late to figure this out. I'm sorry." He's sincere. "I'm sorry this scared you."
I breathe gently. "Thank you so much. I'm sorry to call you so late…"
"It's no problem. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes," I sigh.
-XXX-
On Friday, at five o'clock, a knock sounds at my door. I rush to answer, checking through the peephole to make sure it's the proper guest. I hold back a wide smile as I open the door. Enjolras enters, and somehow I find myself less than a foot from him. He grins down at me. Despite his evident happiness, a note of nervousness shines in his crystalline eyes.
"We're nearly there," he tells me, half-grinning. "Tonight, everything changes. Because of us."
I smile back, a little bittersweetly. In a sudden rush of joy, Leo sweeps me up to spin us 'round the room, laughing. I giggle madly, unable to prevent myself from sharing in his excitement. A moment of something-like-bliss passes between us, until we're spinning more slowly, staring at each other with delight-crinkled eyes, somewhere between laughing and crying. That's when he kisses me.
It's sort of in a rush – he quickly stoops to press his lips to mine, as though he's scared the moment shall pass. But, at the same time, it's gentle. Enjolras is holding me as delicately as though I were made of crystal. His hands rest lightly on my forearms, one migrating up to my chin, tilting it upwards. For a moment I am frozen; entirely unsure of what to do. I soon begin to warm to him, though, and return the kiss with just as much affection and enthusiasm, which only makes Leo smile against my lips. And the something-like-bliss is back. Only, now, I'm beginning to suspect it's actually bliss.
We break apart, lungs weeping for air. He looks down at me with something like happy disbelief.
"I've wanted to do that for a while," he admits. "I'm sorry if….if it was too forward, I –"
I silence him with a soft kiss on the cheek. "No. Not too forward at all."
"Good."
Awkwardness soon claims us. Sheepish, Enjolras begins to depart.
"Wish me luck." He pauses. "I truly wish you could be there, Eveline."
"Then let me come."
"Be careful," I murmur. "Come back 'round tomorrow?"
"If I'm not incarcerated." He winces, looking down at the carpet. "Yes. If at all possible."
Another quick kiss (this one doesn't quiet steal my breath, but is nice nonetheless) and he's gone. I wait three full minutes before stealing to my closet to remove the baggy skater-style pants, flannel button down, nondescript white sneakers, and black baseball cap that lay in a bundle on the floor. With the help of a few friends – such as Brad (who does not approve) and Charles (who approves slightly more), I managed to come up with this disguise, of sorts. I slip on the shapeless attire after cleaning my face of all makeup. My hair goes in a ponytail, then a loose bun, which is tucked beneath the cap. When I look in the mirror, I see an unremarkable person. No shapely figure. Nothing specifically feminine.
"Perfect."
My wallet (with school ID), keys, and penknife go into one of the massive pockets of the jeans.
I still have one thing left to do.
With resignation, I pick up the phone. Each number dialed feels like a stab to my stomach. I wait as the tone shrilled. The other line is answered with a chipper "Heya!" I opened my mouth, throat dry. "Uh…hi. Yeah, Coleen? It's Eveline…Theard. Listen, sorry to bother you but…I need your help. It's about the ABCs."
-XXX-
Agh, this took too long.
I have the next chapter done-ish, but this week is midterms….an update may take awhile.
Also, it's been a while since I've seen the film, and the barricade scenes are especially fuzzy for me. So I apologize if anything is too off – such as sequence of events, or what kind of gun Enjolras was using.
The support has been fantastic, thank you!
